Shattered
by MommieJen
Summary: A horrific car crash brings back haunting memories for Murdock, leaving him angry, bitter and hostile. (death and destruction, but not the Team) Co-written by The-Time-Travelling-Hippie and myself after discussion about our affection for the darker side of Murdock.


_Sadly, neither one of us owns anything having to do with The A-Team. Although we should, right?  
_

* * *

They were almost home, back to Hannibal's apartment, when it happened. B.A. stood on the brakes as they screeched to a halt. Hannibal, for once, was speechless as all four men watched in what seemed to be slow motion. A semi drifted a bit to far into the shoulder, over corrected, crossed the double yellow line, and managed to slam into the one car ahead of them in their side of the four lane highway just about a quarter mile from where they were. For a second, all was quiet in the van, then suddenly the side door and both front doors slammed open at once and B.A., Hannibal, Face, and Murdock took off at a full sprint towards the accident. Fugitives or not, it didn't matter at that point. Once again, just like in Vietnam, they were a rescue team.

Hannibal and Murdock reached the pancaked vehicle mere steps ahead of Face and B.A. The scene before them was beyond horrifying. The driver, an older man, was dead, anyone could see that. The passenger, presumably his wife, lay impaled into a large shard of glass across the dash. Her loud, rattling gasps of air reached Murdock's ears before anyone else could hear. He stripped off his flannel shirt while B.A. jerked her door open. Murdock blocked out everyone and every sound around him except for the woman he knelt beside. He worked as fast as he could trying to stop bleeding where he could, being careful not to touch the glass sticking out of her chest. When he heard the gurgling sound in her throat, he knew, but refused to acknowledge the fact that it would be just mere minutes, if not sooner, before she was gone too. He worked in a frantic pace, mumbling over and over again, "no no no no no no..."

B.A. had to physically drag Murdock away from the woman's body and out of the wreckage. "She's gone, man. She's gone. Murdock, it's done. There was nothing we could do, man. Come on, let's go."

Murdock struggled against him for a moment, then seemed to slip as he nearly lost his footing. He looked down to see why, and his senses were overwhelmed by the sight and smell of blood covering him from his shoes to his arms, leaving bloody footprints as he went. He numbly let B.A. direct him away from the scene and towards the van, but out of the corner of his eye Murdock noticed a man leaning against the front of the semi involved, obviously shaken. Shaken, but alive, Murdock thought.

"You killed them!" Quick as lightening, Murdock had snapped away from B.A., reached for the gun he kept tucked in the waistband of his pants, and had it pointed directly at the man. "YOU. KILLED. THEM." Murdock's hand held steady as a rock, never wavering once from the man's head.

"Captain!" Hannibal's commanding voice carried over to the pilot, but seemed to have no effect. On high alert, Murdock simply stood his ground. With a nod from the Colonel, Face swiftly came up behind Murdock.

"Step down, Lieutenant," Murdock spat venom in a rare attempt to pull rank, even though he knew that although he outranked Face, Face was still Hannibal's second. "He deserves it. He killed those people," Murdock's voice was nothing more than a sinister growl.

"It was an accident, Murdock. An accident. Come on, buddy, put it down. We've got to get out of here," Face didn't expect his words to work, but he was hoping they provided the distraction they needed so Murdock wouldn't notice Hannibal coming up behind him. With a swift kick, Hannibal sent the handgun flying towards B.A. as Face tackled Murdock, bringing all three of them to the ground in a heap. It took both B.A. and Face to hold Murdock down while Hannibal took the syringe out of the inner pocket of his jacket and stabbed his Captain with it. Within seconds, Murdock went limp.

"Come on, we've got to get him out of here," Hannibal stood and gave Face a hand up as B.A. hoisted Murdock over his shoulder and they all took off back to the van just as sirens started to blare in the distance. As they piled in and drove off, Face knew he needed to remove the ruined blood soaked clothes off Murdock, but he had seen the look in his friend's eyes and was afraid the damage had already been done.

Face started to remove Murdock's clothes, wincing slightly as the blood-soaked material made a horrible peeling sound. He wasn't entirely shocked by the pilot's outburst, though still deeply disturbed. After all, that man HAD killed those innocent people. But it was accidental, Face knew that. Murdock had been up close and personal with a dying woman, her perishing right in front of his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it. But when he pulled out the gun...

Seeing his best friend, unconscious, stained in scarlet and forced into the van made him feel scared. No, terrified.

Finally, the Team arrived back at Hannibal's apartment. The Lieutenant helped sling Murdock over B.A's muscular shoulder and they went inside.

"Let's get this blood off him, Face." said the Colonel solemnly.

The weak sedative was starting to wear off by the time they had managed to get Murdock into the shower, though he still wasn't fully able to wash on his own without assistance. After getting the pilot dressed and bringing him back to full consciousness, the three Team members settled Murdock on the sofa.

The Colonel sat on a rickety chair opposite him, "Would you like to explain yourself, Captain?"

The pilot's glassy-eyed gaze became focused on staying on the floor. And after a couple more attempts from Hannibal, the three men left Murdock alone.

'They think they know it all,' he thought to himself, 'They weren't in the situation I was in, they don't know.'

He got up from the sofa and walked over to the huge, mahogany cabinet by the wall. He picked up a small, fragile glass deer statute that sat upon it and scrutinized it intensely. Picking it up, he ran his long, bony fingers over the edges.

'That woman; I could have done something more, couldn't I? She didn't deserve to die. That fool did.' The images of the female's corpse flashed in front of his eyes. The shards of window pane sticking out of her, the blood flowing out of her body and her mouth and right onto him. The blood, he hated the blood. Then the survivor- the murderer, leaning against his own truck appeared before him and he snarled.

The glass deer smashed into a million, tiny pieces as it hit the floor, but Murdock didn't pay any attention to it, just kept staring at the image of that stranger's shaken face in his mind with fierce, dark eyes...

The sound of shattering glass sent Face running back into the living room of Hannibal's apartment. He had convinced Hannibal to let him try with Murdock alone, thinking Murdock wouldn't feel so outnumbered. Face also knew that out of all of them, he had the best odds of not taking the brunt of Murdock's rage.

"Murdock, buddy. Easy there." Face saw his friend surrounded by broken glass and blood. Again. With a deep sigh, he reached out to Murdock. "Your hand, Murdock. It's bleeding." Murdock didn't say anything in response, but at least he didn't pull away from Face's help. Face's mind raced as he cleaned and wrapped Murdock's hand, then swept the millions of shards of glass. Murdock did nothing but sit on the couch and alternate between glaring at Face and staring at the wall, obviously someplace else completely. His eyes flashed dark and grim.

* * *

The thump-thump-thump of the rotors drowned out the sound of the fear running through his veins. Captain Murdock was out "on loan", something that never failed to cause Hannibal to rant and rave at whichever higher-up he could find. He was on a search and rescue that was about to turn into a recovery mission. The smell of blood and death permeated the cockpit as the flight medic worked valiantly in the back. His copilot was pulling double duty as gunner. They had found the young private the only survivor of the crash, although for how long he would survive no one knew. Murdock had been the one to assist the medic in pulling the kid from the chopper. Now he lay in the back with a good portion of the windshield sticking out of his chest.

Murdock landed the chopper as gently as he could, then turned to look in the back. The flight medic just shook his head and reached for a body bag. The Captain powered down the helicopter and finally noticed the controls had blood on them. His flight suit was soaked crimson red, stained with blood from the now dead kid. He promptly tossed his helmet off, stumbled out of the cockpit, and vomited.

* * *

Murdock stared at the wall. If he looked long enough without blinking, he could see the kid's face staring back at him. To this day, he didn't know why that one kid's death ate at him so much, but it did. It had been a very long time since he had witnessed someone die like that. And if he stared at the wall long enough, the face of the dead kid from so long ago merged with the face of the older woman from the accident, merging in a gruesome configuration that taunted him.

He flexed and un-flexed his fingers in agitation. He'd seen the look on Face when he came in and cleaned up his hand; it was one of horrified concern. Sure, his friends cared, but they didn't understand. If they had been in his position, cradling the dead woman in their arms, her blood being infused into their clothes- he shuddered just thinking about it- and watching her drown in her own bodily fluids, they would have reacted the same as he had. Maybe they would have even put a bullet in the guy. His hands became fists just picturing the man in his mind and he un-balled them when a sharp twang of pain stung in his palm.

Face, after retreating from a scarily mute Murdock with a wounded hand, watched quietly from the doorway. The pilot tapped his foot, almost impatiently, on the wooden floor, grinding his teeth and digging his fingers into the leather sofa.

The Lieutenant moved an inch to the right and the floor groaned beneath him. He cursed.

Murdock's head shot up, brown eyes dark and intense. The corner of his mouth flared slightly and he stood. As he walked towards the Conman, Face felt himself shrink and his brows raise. The Captain halted before him and snarled. A muscle twitched noticeably by his right eye. He trudged past the blonde and made his way to the front door.

"Where are you going?" Face asked warily.

"For a walk." Murdock answered as he walked out the door and slammed it with a bang that created shudders all around.

The sound of the slamming door caused Hannibal and B.A. both to come running into the living room. Face was pale and breathless against the wall. It had been years since they had seen Murdock tumble down into the darkness and not be able to pull himself back up. He had been doing so well, they all knew. Hannibal placed a hand on Face's shoulder. "Let's go, Lieutenant."

B.A., Hannibal, and Face all headed out the door and down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Hannibal stopped them. "Thirty minutes, then we meet back here, Murdock or no Murdock. We'll go from there." The men nodded their agreement; B.A. headed for the van while Hannibal and Face split in different directions.

Face stood for a second, pondering his surroundings and trying to figure out where Murdock may have went. He had a hunch B.A. was going to do a drive by of the accident scene, and Hannibal had set off in the direction of the VA, even though it would be a long run. Face started off down the nearest side street, trusting his instincts to alert him to anything unusual while he thought about what may have set Murdock off.

After a few minutes, it hit him like a ton of bricks. So much so, in fact, that he actually stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. Of course. Murdock had seen blood many times over their years helping people while on the run. He had set dislocated shoulders, stitched wounds, and cleaned many general wounds, just as they all had. But never had he been simply covered in blood like that since the time Face remembered seeing him land a chopper, topple out, and promptly get sick all over the skids. He shuddered as he remembered how the Captain's flight suit was stained red clear down to his shoes and he remembered hearing the story of how the young kid had died. Murdock had disappeared for the rest of the day and half the night until Hannibal had found him in an empty hooch, curled up with his hands over his ears, unblinking. One of the team had been with him 24-7 for the next few days until he was able to speak again.

He looked around to gauge where he might get lucky enough to find an unhinged Captain. He spied an alley across the street. He quickly crossed and headed down the alley. Within a few minutes, he spied the curled up form of Murdock all alone in a corner, clasping his hands over his ears tightly. Face cautiously approached him, making sure to keep enough distance, but close enough that Murdock would know he was there.

"Murdock?" Face knelt in front of him, a few feet away. "Murdock, it's Face, buddy."

Murdock slowly looked up at his friend. Gone was the terrifying hatred, leaving behind the eyes of a deeply wounded soul. Still with his hands covering his ears, Murdock managed to croak out a weak "Face..."

Face gently offered his hand to Murdock. It was there if he needed it. Murdock took it and Face helped him sit up.

"Face... Face, it's the blood. So much blood."

"I know, buddy." Face whispered, pulling his friend into a tight hug and ignoring the odd looks people gave him and the Captain as they walked by.  
He could hear the muffled whimpering of Murdock, concealed by his suit jacket and released his hold of him after a couple of minutes. "Murdock, look at me." He said, trying to gain the pilot's empty, vacant stare. "There's no blood here; you're safe, you're fine, okay?"

Murdock nodded weakly and searched Templeton's blue orbs in desperation. His eyes were scared, but hollow, and distressed. "Are... are you guys mad at me?" He asked, his voice like that of a child's.

"What? Of course we're n-"

"When I had the gun... and you had to knock me out..." What he had almost done suddenly hit him. "I almost killed him," Murdock whispered.

"Murdock. None of us are mad at you. We weren't going to let that happen." Face explained in a gentle tone.

Murdock nodded again, but looked a little more confident. "No more blood?" He inquired.

"No more blood." Face told him with a small smile. "Come on, pal, let's go home.

He and the pilot picked themselves off the ground and made their way back to Hannibal's apartment, Face's arm slung over Murdock's shoulder protectively all the way there.


End file.
